The Wrocky Collection
by Danco
Summary: All of your favourite characters feature in this magical collection of Wrocky short stories.


"In the funky 70's disco corner, wearing the fabulous shorts: 'The Best of the Best of the Best'; 'The Man of a Thousand Knuckles'; 'The Beeeautiful' - Apollo Cream!

Cream's sugar-frosted face glistened like a diamond-encrusted bowling ball.

"... And in the apple-flavoured corner, wearing his mum's blouse: 'The Strongest Man Ever to Wear High Heels' - Flubber Lang!"

Flubber demonstrated his awesome strength by punching through a solid block of gooseberry jelly.

"Okay, boys" said the ref. "When I say 'Go', punch each other in the face repeatedly until one of you falls over. Ready?... GO!"

Flubber fervidly flailed his fearsome fists, flapping frantically, frustrating his foe in a furious foamy flurry.

Cream fell over, but got back up and wiped the saliva off his shins. He came forwards. He came on strong. He came in his pants.

"Now it's MY turn, Flange!"

Cream's lovely long lactose limbs lassoed and lashed like lanky liquorice laces, licking Lang on his lumpy loaf.

"Apollo, Apollo C-ream! He float like a butterfly and sting like a dream!"

These words came into his head as he unleashed a jab-jab-jab, followed by a shuffle-ball-change.

Flubber fell over and hit his head on a brick.

* * *

"Ah fuck the diet!" Said Paulie, helping himself to another snow cone.

* * *

"You're gonna drink magma and you're gonna shit lava! They're gonna call ya the Italian volcano, kid!"

Wrocky never really understood Mickey Mouse's training methods - his gums were ripped to shreds from the razor-wire spaghetti and meatballs he had to eat for lunch, and he was still wanted for questioning regarding several bite marks taken out of a Komodo dragon at the local zoo.

"Why have I always got to eat stuff and then shit stuff?"

The unorthodox regime eventually drove Wrocky to smuggling Caramac bars into the gym in an attempt to stave off starvation.

"Now kid, you're gonna eat babies and you're gonna shit abortions!"

Wrocky sighed.

* * *

Paulie took a massive toke of his cigar and got a nice little head-rush.

* * *

Wrocky had punched Yvonne Drago nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine times in the groin and his arms were starting to feel tired.

"Tell ya wot!" Said Wrocky, inserting a rhubarb and custard lollipop into his wonky mouth. "Why are we in here killing each other when there are wars going on in Denmark and Albania?"

"You're right." Yvonne agreed. "With our superior strength and athleticism, we should be out there _in_ those wars! We must crush all their inferior capitalist skulls like dog eggs!"

This was not exactly the proposal Wrocky had intended to make. But now, he quite liked the sound of it.

"Okay boss. From now on, we'll be friends!"

But as Wrocky extended his arm for a friendly handshake, Yvonne decided to punch him in the face as hard as he could.

*BA-DOING!*

In his dying moments, Wrocky dreamt of a world overrun by a communist nation of jellyfish people.

* * *

"This is the life." Thought Paulie as his sexbot gave him another clamp-job.

* * *

Yvonne Drago liked to punch things.

He once punched a man so hard he thought he'd been kissed, went home, had a jam sandwich, went to bed - woke up inside-out.

He once punched a rock so hard it turned into a tiny ruby that he wore in his ear as a risqué fashion accessory.

He once punched a calculator so hard that all the numbers fell out and got lost behind the sofa.

He once punched a girl in the face and went to prison for murder...

Yvonne learnt the hard way that violence isn't always the answer.

* * *

"Okay, Wrocky!" Said Apollo Cream. "If you wanna beat that Flubber Lang, you gotta do it black-man style!"

Wrocky wasn't quite sure what was happening.

"First, I want five-hundred caps in that heavy bag's ass! Then I want you to shank that speedball! Then I want you to get all up in that skipping rope's face and be all like 'Stay outta ma bidness, awkay!' Then I want..."

Wrocky sighed. This was totally racist.

* * *

"Oh for Christ's sake!" Said Adrien, popping a Valium and guzzling it down with a glass of champagne. She was at her wit's end with Paulie leaving cigar buts, half-eaten boloney sandwiches, and crusty used tissues all over the Balboa estate. "... And if that fat lazy wanker gets drunk and slaps my arse one more time, I'm gonna get Wrocky to pummel his liver into a delicate pâté!"

* * *

"Okay, Wrocky!" Said Tony Dook. "You're coming out of retirement for the 69th time, you're 120 years old, and you're gonna be fighting an indestructible war machine!"

Wrocky stroked his invisible beard in an attempt to look thoughtful.

Tony continued, "Now, you've got crippling arthritis in your spine! You've got piles the size of Easter eggs! You've got erectile dysfunction!..."

"I get that problem." Paulie interjected.

"... You've got type 2 diabetes! You've got bowel incontinence! You've got so much brain damage, when I walked into the room you mistook me for a cucumber sandwich! You've got..."

Wrocky zoned out for a little while.

"... So what we're gonna do is we're gonna train you old-man style! First, I want you to talk shit to that heavy bag for an hour! Then I want you to run over that skipping rope with your mobility scooter! Then I want you to fall over that dumbbell and break your hip! Then I want..."

Wrocky sighed. This was totally ageist.

* * *

Paulie could not believe what he had just witnessed. The spectacle he saw before him brought a tear of pure wonder to his yellowy eyeball.

"A baloney and snow cone sandwich..." He breathed in astonishment. "Why did I never think of this before?"

He lifted the breaded snack towards his gaping mouth, shuddering in awe. "Fuck me, this is going to be good. I think I'll have a wank after this."

* * *

Spider Reeko was never much of a boxer, in truth, he had always dreamed of painting watercolour landscapes of the English countryside.

* * *

Wrocky had his opponent hurt with a slug to the body, followed by two more slugs to the body. He then blocked a couple of jabs with his face and countered with a slug to the body, followed by seven more slugs, each one to the body. Another slug to the body had his opponent coughing up his own pancreas and a final slug to the body finally sent him to the canvas like a sack of shit.

"Such elegance... Such grace..." Said Paulie, a tear of wonder welling in his bloodshot eyeball.

* * *

Masom 'The Lime' Dixom was never much of a boxer, in truth, he had always dreamed of playing clarinet in the London Symphony Orchestra.

* * *

"Today, NASA would like to introduce the very latest creation in cybernetic space-age technology. Please say 'Hello' to the ultimate warrior - Lucifus Barnaby Monstro!"

The scientist pulled a silk cloth away to unveil an incredibly muscular man wearing Y-fronts. He had a robot eye and enormous metallic fists and nipples.

"We would like to propose a friendly exhibition bout with Wrocky Bell-Boa..."

Suddenly, the robot man spoke in a scary computerised voice, "MUST DESTROY WROCKY BELL-BOA."

* * *

"I can't believe I let that big commie cracker punch me to death!" Said Apollo Cream, sitting on a cloud in Heaven.

"I knew I shouldn't have dropped acid with James Brown right before the fight! I was tripping balls so bad I thought I was fighting a giant peacock at one point..."

* * *

This was it - the moment that humankind had waited for since the dawn of civilisation, since we first gazed up at the stars in the night sky and asked ourselves the question 'Is there anybody out there?' - first contact with extraterrestrial life.

As the UFO landed in the Nevada desert, a rectangular door opened up in the hull of the chromium vessel. Then, through a haze of dry ice and cheap lighting effects, out stepped what looked like a tiny man with the head of a jellyfish.

It spoke. "Earthlings - we have travelled across the galaxy to present you with the very latest creation in genetic engineering and gene-splicing technology. Please kneel before the ultimate enslaver of Earthlings - Septicus Barnacle Moonraker!"

The alien pulled some tin foil away to reveal an incredibly muscular creature wearing silver Y-fronts. He had enormous fists and the hindquarters of a domestic cow.

"We would like to propose a friendly exhibition bout with your champion, Earthling Bell-Boa..."

Suddenly, the creature spoke in a strange alien tongue, "MUST EXTERMINATE EARTHLING BELL-BOA."

* * *

Introducing America's latest team of crime-fighting superheroes - Fist Force Five!

With more swagger than Jagger! More funk than Bootsy Collins! More 'fro than the Jackson 5! - Apollo Cream!...

The angriest transvestite this side of Mount Kilimanjaro - Flubber Lang!...

The man with more roids in his system than Ronnie Coleman's left testicle - Yvonne Drago!...

With the most sexually ambiguous mullet known to science - Tommy Morrisons!...

And their leader - the pound-for-pound most brain-damaged man this side of the Hubble Space Telescope - Wrocky Bell-Boa!

Together they fight petty crime, hang around in bars, and go to cheap strip clubs without telling their wives - Fist Force Five!

* * *

A crushing right hook from Paulie had Yvonne Drago reeling against the ropes. He was badly hurt with blood cascading down his Soviet face. Yvonne desperately tried to back off on but Paulie pounced like a fearsome tiger, hitting the Russian giant with a tremendous blow that shattered his soviet noggin into a million tiny pieces of ice.

The crystalline fragments fell into a small paper cone, topped with sweet rainbow syrup.

"Look into the snow cone of your soul." Echoed a deep, mysterious voice. So Paulie gazed into the sparkling slurry... and in the kaleidoscope of multicoloured, icy jewels... he saw his own face.

Paulie sat up in his bed with a jolt. Wide awake. Drenched in sweat and piss.

"... And I have the same dream every night." He confessed to Adrien later on that morning. "Well, that and the one where I'm being chased by a giant baloney sandwich..."

* * *

The following rhymes are brought to you by Fist Force Five!

Wrocky Bell-Boa: "I'm so tough, so they say, I eat thumbtacks mixed with whey!"

Apollo Cream: "I'm so fast, yesterday, I ran rings 'round Cassius Clay!"

Flubber Lang: "I'm so mean, on eBay, I bid for shit and never pay!"

Yvonne Drago: "I'm so strong, impressive, hey? I bash brains into purée!"

Tommy Morrisons: "I'm so camp, shout 'hooray!', all my boy-friends think I'm gay!"

Oh Tommy, you always have to ruin everything.


End file.
